


Top Shelf

by magnolia_9



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Can't help myself, D/s, Don't Read This, I love fluff, Kinktober, M/M, Mild Humiliation, Negan insists on being called daddy, Negan-style marriage, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sassy one-liners, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, more smut, only smut, some fluff in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14300703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnolia_9/pseuds/magnolia_9
Summary: In which Rick doesn't take kindly to Negan casting aspersions on his ability to hold up his end of a bargain. Kinktober kreation.





	Top Shelf

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Kinktober 2017, but of course it took ONE HUNDRED YEARS to finish. (I still have Regan week 2017 things cooking! I assume it will be Regan week 2018 before I finish.) 
> 
> I make no excuses for this. This is unadulterated smut, and kinks abound. The (lazy) set-up is that Negan hasn’t killed anyone in Team Family (because this is pure smut, and I can’t do the emotional heavy lifting here), but he is running his protection racket on Alexandria and has convinced Rick to marry him in exchange for letting the town off the hook for pick-ups.

Rick ran a hand through his still-damp hair as he made his way up familiar steps.

It was his night - _his night_ \- a concept that still galled him no matter how many such nights passed.

Not that the pique had ever kept him away.

He had married Negan some months ago for the protection and prosperity he offered Alexandria in exchange, and he had quickly discovered that he and the bat-toting king of their little slice of the fallen world had more similarities than he cared to admit. They both made it a point of pride to never renege on a deal, for one.

On their wedding night - and Negan had _insisted_ on calling it their wedding night - he had pulled a tense, skittish Rick into his lap and murmured the most shocking thing he had ever said to him in his ear: _you don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. That’s not the man I am._

Rick was affronted - they had made a _deal_ , he had given his _word_ \- and he practically demanded that Negan fuck him. To this day, he wondered if it was all a masterful application of reverse psychology. The more time he spent with Negan, the more he realized how goddamn _wily_ the man was. Either way, he found himself laid out like an offering on the man’s opulent bed, his hips propped up by pillows as he was worked slowly into a shaking, shuddering frenzy by his groom. If telling Rick that he didn’t have to fuck him was the first shocking and insulting thing he did, then making him love getting fucked was certainly the second.

None of that quite eased the sting of _his night_ , like he was a pair of shoes or a tie brought out in rotation, but he was more than capable of bearing the blow to his pride for the sake of his family.

Besides, Negan could be very attentive on _his night_ , and frankly his pride was the farthest thing from his mind when they were alone together and he was hard as steel and on fire beneath the man’s touch. Rick liked to think he put up a respectable show of resistance - he usually got in his solid handful of disdainful looks and snarled replies. Things would always end up going Negan’s way, though.

It seemed a lot of things ended up going Negan’s way.

He was a little surprised to hear another voice raised raucously as he approached Negan’s quarters, nodding his way past the guards. Negan usually didn’t keep company late into the evening - not on _his night_ , anyway. He usually wanted to get started right away.

He stepped through to Negan’s sitting room, pausing in the doorway for a moment. Negan was slouched in an ornate armchair plushly upholstered in red, looking like a king lounging on his throne. Across from him on the grey velvet couch was Simon, a grin eating up his face.

“ _Rick_ ,” Negan crowed immediately when he saw him, eyes going narrow and predatory the way they often did when he laid eyes on his newest spouse. “Come over here, baby. You’re just in time to congratulate our friend Simon.”

“Congratulate ‘im for what?”

“For acts of valor, Rick. Simon here was driving along and hit a big-ass pack of walkers roaming around in between us and the Kingdom. Led them on a merry fucking chase right into a quarry.”

“I had to pull some _Fast and Furious_ shit,” Simon chuckled. “I drifted the fuck out of there while those dumb, dead pricks went over the edge like lemmings. Then I picked ‘em off like dumb, dead fish in a barrel. They would have done some fucking damage if they came knocking at our door.”

“They would have done a hell of a lot more down at the fucking renaissance faire,” Negan scoffed. “I hope the king thinks about that and sends the good shit next time.”

“What good shit? It’s all fucking vegetables these days.”

“He’s got peaches sometimes,” Negan said, shooting a sly, sideways look to Rick out of the corners of his hazel eyes. “You know I love biting into a big, juicy peach.”

Rick licked his lips, brow furrowing as he looked away from Negan and towards the grinning man seated across from him. “Yeah, okay. Congratulations. Good that you caught ‘em.”

“Well, thank you kindly, Rick Grimes! I’m happy as a fucking pig in shit about it, too, and not just because my ass didn’t get eaten by a pack of dead ones. I’m happy because I get to come to the boss and beg for my treat. Simon’s been a real good boy, after all.”

Rick gave him a bewildered look and then turned to Negan, who had started to chuckle.

“That you have, Simon. You gonna try and convince Frankie to give you another happy ending?”

Simon gave a filthy moan and thrust his hips up in his chair. “That girl is an angel. A fucking perfect angel. That’s the promised land between those thighs. But, uh, I thought I’d try something else off the menu.” His eyes shifted to Rick, still looking completely lost but now with his lips pinched in disapproval of the turn the conversation had taken.

“What the hell are you both talkin’ about?” Rick demanded. “You…you were with Frankie?” _And you kept your entire face?_ Rick glanced over at Negan again, and the sly smile he found on his face unsettled him.

“I can be very generous, Ricky. When one of my guys - or girls - deserves a treat, they get access to the top shelf. Negan’s private collection.”

Rick’s face twisted. “You just hand ‘em over to your soldiers like they’re toys? Jesus Christ, Negan. Do you even care what they have to say about it?” Rick winced as Negan’s hand shot out and circled his wrist in a bruising grip.

“You fucking know better than that, Rick,” Negan said, his tone still eerily cheerful and pleasant. “I know you fucking do. If they don’t say ‘yes’? No dice. Not for my Saviors, not for anyone in the Sanctuary, not for fucking _me_. That’s the law around here. How many times have we had this conversation? Enough times for you to fucking get it, right? Which leads me to think that you’re just being a brat in front of our guest. Do you want me to bend you over my fucking knee while Simon watches? Then please, keep accusing me of ugly shit you know perfectly fucking well that I’m not guilty of doing.”

“Rick,” Simon said solemnly in the electric silence that filled the room after that, “please, please keep accusing him of ugly shit you know perfectly fucking well that he’s not guilty of doing. I already came in my pants a little. Don’t take this personally, but I’d give my left nut to watch that shit.”

Rick spluttered, face scarlet, as he wrenched his wrist away from Negan’s grasp. “You’re both fuckin’ perverts.”

“Yeah,” Negan agreed.

“You got that right, hombre,” Simon chirped at the same time.

Negan turned away from Rick to lean towards Simon, and Rick felt a flash of irritation at the dismissiveness of the gesture. “So who’s it gonna be, then, big hero? Which of my girls are you gonna try and perv up?”

Simon leaned forward and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know what, man? The truth is I’ve always wanted to ride a cowboy. You know? See if I can stay on or whether my ass would get bucked off.”

Rick felt his mouth go slack with shock.

A peal of laughter sounded from Negan as he sat back heavily in his chair. “Him? King Shit over here? You want him to pull the stick out of his ass so you can replace it with your dick?” Negan shook his head, chuckling, as Rick glared at him. “Forget it, Simon. The sheriff ain’t a team player.”

Rick rocked his head back and glared at him. “Fuck you,” he spat on instinct, “I wouldn’t fuckin’ be here if I wasn’t.”

“Is that right, baby?” Negan asked softly, danger in his silky tone. “Well, shit. You may have traded your hand in marriage for your shitty little suburb, but it hasn’t stopped you from being the most frigid bitch on my block so far. You’re not gonna take one for the team now. I know you fucking won’t. You’re too fucking good for that, right?” He punctuated that with a derisive laugh, leaning back in his heavy, oversized chair and narrowing his eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Simon protested. “‘Take one for the team?’ What the hell, boss? This is some grade-A beef over here.” He gestured to his body with a sweep of his hand, grinning.

“Yeah? I don’t see anyone lining up to buy that grade-A beef, buddy. I think you left it out a little too long. You know? Someone eats that shit, they’re liable to get sick.”

“Oh, fuck,” Simon said, eyes wide in mock offense. “That fuckin’ hurts, boss. It really does. It hurts me right in my tender parts. I happen to think I’m fucking delicious. _Gourmet_.” He kissed his fingers like a cartoon chef, and Negan laughed.

“I’ll do it,” Rick broke in to the laughter sharply, crossing his arms more tightly around his chest. Both men’s heads jerked towards him.

“What?” Negan chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re not fucking serious, are you?”

“I’m serious,” Rick returned, eyes on his boots. There was a heavy silence in the wake of his words that had his gut twisting in sudden apprehension. Fingers wrapped around his wrist again, not painfully this time, and tugged. Rick stumbled a little towards Negan, knees catching at the plush armrest of his chair.

“Look at me, Rick,” he said, and the absence of teasing in his voice just made Rick more nervous. “Look at me and say it.”

Rick lifted his gaze to Negan’s. The hazel eyes that looked back were almost feline in their predatory attention. Rick felt his tongue get thick in his mouth. “It - I - yes. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Negan asked, letting his head fall to the side.

Rick wet his lips. “I’ll…let…I’ll let Simon…” he trailed off, unable to quite say it. The burning in his face and chest was almost unbearable. He wanted to stick his head in ice water.

Negan's smile was amused and, surprisingly, a little soft. “Why don’t you just run along, darlin’? I don’t think you’re up for this shit. Go play in your garden or something.”

Rick sank his teeth into his lip, fighting the surge of embarrassed pique that loosed in him. “I’ll let Simon fuck me,” he said calmly.

Negan swayed slowly in his chair, the motion starting from his head and sliding down his spine. He looked like a cobra, dancing before a strike. “You will? Is that fucking right, sheriff? Take your clothes off, then.”

Rick startled a little where he stood, and he almost lost his nerve right then and there. But he supposed it was the challenging, skeptical look in Negan’s eyes that pushed him over the edge. He couldn’t resist the chance to prove the smug bastard that called himself his husband wrong.

His fingers flew over the buttons of his shirt, and he shrugged it off almost angrily.

“Could you do that a little slower, Rick?” Simon asked earnestly. “You know, give us a little wiggle or something. Dance around.”

Rick felt the muscles in his jaw twitching as he grit his teeth. “I don’t know how to dance, so tough shit.” He pulled his thin undershirt off, shivering a little as the cool air met his exposed flesh.

“Everybody knows how to dance, Rick,” Simon protested. “You just gotta feel the fuckin’ music. You know, get lost in that rock n’ roll and drift away.”

Rick was kicking off his pants aggressively. “There ain’t any music.”

“Give it up, Simon,” Negan snorted. “Rick’s not a fucking sport about this shit at all.”

“I’m doin’ this, ain’t I?” Rick snapped, gesturing towards his discarded clothes. He was down to his briefs.

Negan’s lip curled. _We’ll see_ , his skeptical eyes said. “Simon, be a pal and head into the bedroom. Lube’s in the drawer. It might be buried under a few other things.” Negan smirked at Rick, holding his eyes.

Rick refused to blink. Simon brushed past him, and it was on the tip of his tongue - _no, I’ll get it_ \- but he was damned if he would let Negan win this round.

“Holy cornflakes, boss,” Simon yelled from the depths of their bedroom. “You use all this shit on him?”

Negan passed his tongue slowly over his lips. “Answer him, Rick,”

“When I let him,” Rick said softly, the words for the man in front of him.

His grin widened. “You’re still overdressed for this party, honey.”

Rick pushed the briefs over his hips just as Simon reappeared in the doorway that connected the bedroom to the sitting room. He watched with unabashed interest as Rick bared himself to the other men, leaning against the doorframe and letting out an exaggerated wolf-whistle.

Negan motioned him towards his lap, and Rick hesitated for the barest moment before he straddled him, knees sinking into the plush cushion beneath them. Negan gripped his hips and urged him forward, flush against him. With his thighs parted over Negan’s lap, he was utterly exposed, and he tensed as Simon strolled around him, apparently looking his fill. Negan stroked a hand slowly down his spine, and Rick shivered under the unexpectedly soft touch.

“Hey,” Negan breathed, “over here.”

Rick forced himself to look into his eyes, and he thought the careful, considering look Negan was giving him was worse than the mocking he was expecting. He knew how to meet Negan on even footing when he was cruel; he could answer his menacing and his cutting words with the cold, haughty silence that always seemed to get under the man’s skin, and he delighted in scoring those petty victories in their mockery of a married life. But moments like these, when Negan looked at him like he was something actually cherished, something to take care with, had him lost.

“Your eyes are so goddamn beautiful,” he murmured. That was an attack formation Rick was never really prepared for, and he knew that any minute he was going to give Negan the satisfaction of-

“Ooh, baby,” Negan rumbled, a triumphant smile curling his lips. “You’re so goddamn cute when you blush for me.” He slipped a hand down, down between the full, firm swell of his ass, and pressed teasingly against the soft pucker of his entrance.

“Whoa, boss, no disrespect, but being in the audience wasn’t what I had in mind. You know? I thought I’d get to be the leading man here.”

Rick found his voice. “You should know better,” he said bitterly. “Nobody gets to be the leading man but Negan.”

He chuckled, not perturbed in the least. “There’s that viper tongue I love so much.” He ran his fingers over him again, and Rick bit the tongue in question as he tried not to rock into the intimate touch. “Keep your pornstache on, Simon. I’m gonna warm him up for you, that’s all. I know just how to do it.” He dropped his voice, speaking barely over a breath. “Don’t I, lover?”

Rick bit his lower lip as he felt his cock twitch and harden in response. Back at the beginning, he had been enraged at how easily he responded to the man. He had gotten hard just from filthy things his _husband_ whispered in his ear, and god but that had pissed him the fuck off. But he had learned to be practical in this new world. He wouldn’t fight the inevitable, and Negan getting him hard was inevitable. He knew what to do, what to say, how to touch. And now fucking Simon would get to be an audience to that, and he was horrified to discover that the sting of this new humiliation was accompanied by an eager, curious thrill.

“All right,” Simon said in an exaggeratedly grudging tone. “Guess you’ll want a dab of this, then.” He sidled up beside them, and Rick resisted the urge to hide his hot face in Negan’s leather-clad shoulder as he got close. “Here you go, sweetie,” Simon simpered, and he turned his head just as the man shoved a bottle of lube into his hands. “I guess I’ll just go and make myself comfortable.”

Rick heard the footsteps retreat and the soft sigh of cushions as Simon threw himself back on the couch. The clink of a belt unbuckling reached his ears, and this time he did hide his face in Negan’s shoulder. Negan chuckled, the feel of it rumbling through Rick, and took the lube from him. He pressed a lingering kiss to his shoulder, and Rick felt himself lose his footing even more. Then fingers dove smoothly and firmly into him, and he held his breath as his body opened to the familiar invasion.

Negan dragged his fingers down his smooth walls, stroking him hard from the inside, and he slid deeper with each stroke until he was buried in him to the knuckles. “Breathe, Rick,” he said against his ear, and Rick let out a long, shaking sigh, a little annoyed with his own immediate obedience to the command. “Good boy,” Negan purred, and didn’t he always find a way to rub it the fuck in?

Rick lifted his head and nipped sharply at his jaw in a nearly canine gesture of reproof.

Negan’s eyes slid half-shut as he made a low noise in his throat, too smooth to be growl but too ominous to be a moan. “Come on, baby. Is that all the damage you can do?”

It certainly wasn’t.

Rick sucked hard, bruising love bites into whatever skin he could reach, making sure to take special care high up on his neck and under his jaw, where even his favored red scarf would fail to cover the evidence. Negan’s fingers found that spot inside him that made everything flare up and go fuzzy in his mind, and a faint whimper escaped his lips where they were pressed against Negan’s throat.

“There it is,” he whispered in his ear, and he landed a hard, stinging slap against one firm cheek of his ass as he rubbed hard over that spot. It was like turning the gas up on the flame that was already beginning to burn between his legs, and he fought to keep another whimper from leaving his slack lips. The fingers inside him had multiplied without him realizing it, and he rocked into the stretch. Negan slapped him again, digging his fingers in the soft flesh on impact and parting him, putting him on display.

Rick suddenly remembered that he _was_ on display, that there was someone else in the room, just as the unmistakeable sound of an eager hand moving over a cock met his ears. He felt his skin burn, and the smile Negan sent him had more than a touch of malice in it.

“Look at him,” Negan said loudly, filling the small room as if there was an assembly there to address instead of a single spectator, “takes it like a fucking champ.”

“Fuck you, Negan,” he spat, fire licking his face and chest.

“Oh, no, baby - fuck _you_.”

Fingers left him, and he felt suddenly empty and bereft.

“Feels like you’re ready for it. Go on.” Negan angled his head back and watched him as he swallowed thickly and began to struggle up out of his lap. Before Rick could rise up to his knees, Negan’s hand snaked out and caught him by the back of the neck, dragging him in unexpectedly for a hard kiss. Rick’s teeth ached with the unlovely impact of their mouths, and he found himself with a mouthful of the man’s aggressive tongue. The kiss felt like a warning, a promise, and a proclamation rolled into one: _mine_. That the man could suppress his own possessive nature long enough to allow this kind of thing - _access to the top shelf_ , isn’t that what he had said? - was still astounding to Rick, and he wondered at it. The kiss softened as it went on, and Negan finished it by tracing his swollen lips lightly with his tongue before leaning back and flashing his best devil-may-care grin.

“All right. Go ride ‘im, cowboy.”

Rick rose shakily to his feet, hating himself a little for his reluctance to leave his arms.

“Finally,” Simon groaned behind them. “Thank _everything_ holy. Now come on over here and sit on Uncle Simon’s lap.”

Rick whirled on him with a scoff, face twisting in disgust, and Simon laughed openly at his expression.

“You’re one judgmental asshole, pretty boy. All right, so it’s fucking gross.” Simon reached out a hand as Rick drew closer, seizing his forearm and pulling him in. “I’ll bet the boss makes you say some pretty gross shit to him when he’s fucking you, though, am I right? What does he like for you to call him?”

Rick could feel Negan’s amused gaze at his back, and even though it should have been impossible at this point, his face grew hotter.

“Come on, Rick. Be a good boy and answer Uncle Simon,” Negan coaxed in a mocking, intimate murmur.

Rick was bitterly regretting his decision to participate in this, not because he was afraid, but because he was sure he was going to be dead of the humiliation before it was over. “Daddy,” he said through clenched teeth.

Simon howled. “Daddy,” he wheezed, “that is fucking filthy.” He seized Rick’s hips and dragged him forward, into his knees, and Rick had to part his legs to stay on his feet. His heart sped up a little as he looked down for the first time to take in what Simon had for him. “You’re not scared of a big dick, are you, Ricky?” Simon asked him with wide-eyed earnestness. “I hope not, considering what your _daddy’s_ packing. What?” he asked mischievously at Rick’s expression. “I’ve seen it. He loves whipping it out. And this ain’t our first tag team.”

“Could we fuckin’ get on with it already? I don’t need to hear about that shit,” Rick snapped, but he could feel himself begin to tremble. Jesus, he had never done anything like this before. He was about to let a near-stranger fuck him while his war-lord husband - the one he had handed himself over to like a sacrificial lamb - watched. He felt even more like a lamb after Simon’s words - uneasy, naive, and self-conscious of his own inexperience.

“Turn around and look at me, baby,” his war-lord husband said, “I want to watch your face while you sit on Uncle Simon’s lap.”

All of the blood in his body was boiling under the surface of his skin, and he supposed he was just about scarlet. Simon spun him roughly by the hips, and his eyes met Negan’s as he stumbled to keep his balance. The flashing dark eyes were softer on him than he was expecting.

“You can stop this whenever you want,” Negan murmured with a rare sincerity. “You know the rules, honey. Nothing you don’t say yes to.”

Simon groaned comically behind him. “Jesus, boss, you want me to die of blue balls back here? Holy shit, son, please don’t fucking back out now with your asshole a foot away from my dick -“

“Simon,” Negan said warningly, a faint smile still sitting on his lips.

Rick held his gaze for a moment before sinking down slowly, inhaling sharply as Simon’s fingers tightened on his hips to guide him. He felt a shiver move through his entire body as the hot tip of his cock nosed his entrance, and he drew in a deep breath as he let himself be breached. His hands flew back to fist in the sleeves of Simon’s shirt as he tried to brace himself up, legs growing weaker and weaker as Negan’s eyes burned him from across the room.

“Oh, shit,” Simon sighed behind him, his breath ghosting his back.

Rick exhaled shakily as he sank further, feeling himself open on the stinging intrusion of the other man’s thick cock.

“Easy, baby,” Negan’s voice caressed him from across the room. “It ain’t a race.”

“Think of it more like a marathon,” Simon said breathlessly behind him, fingers squeezing into the soft flesh of his hips before moving to his ass to part him and expose him to his gaze. “Shee-it,” Simon sighed, “there’s one for the spank bank. That’s a fucking beautiful sight. You’re missing out, boss.”

“I like my view fine,” he countered, dropping a roguish wink at Rick, who noted the pleased flutter that sent off in him with a good deal of aggravation.

Somewhere along the way, the man had gotten under his fucking skin. Negan had unexpectedly shown him approval, praise, and Rick had unexpectedly begun to crave it. That’s why he had fucking agreed to this, he realized wryly, to prove himself in some perverse way to the man in the leather jacket, to show that he could hold his own in their strange bargain.

Simon seemed to be getting a bit impatient behind him as his gaze lingered on Negan, because he pressed Rick down on his cock a bit more firmly. Rick let him take over, focused on breathing evenly, and soon he was seated flush in the other man’s lap. “Jesus, sheriff,” Simon grunted behind him. “You are as tight as a choir girl.” He rolled his hips up, groaning loudly as Rick’s walls clenched around him. His big, calloused hand wrapped around Rick’s stiff cock, and Rick hissed, head falling forward.

“Hands off, Simon,” Negan growled from across the room, and the man behind Rick gave a shaking laugh.

“Whatever you say, boss, but that’s pretty damn cold.”

 _Jealous_ , Rick thought, and that pleased him in a way he was afraid to think too hard about. Simon seized him and began to bounce him in his lap in earnest, and Rick sucked in a shuddering breath through parted, slack lips. He felt his brows knit as he focused on accepting the onslaught, but soon his breath began to come more easily, and he rocked his hips in time to Simon’s thrusts. He lifted his head and found Negan’s eyes locked on him. A shiver made its way from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, and Negan smiled toothily at him, tongue coming out to lap at his lip slowly. Rick’s eyes followed the motion, panting harshly as Simon’s thick length worked inside him. The man had more power in those arms than Rick had realized; he was handling him so easily, as if he were a doll, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh where he had him by the hips. He was going to leave bruises.

Negan might not like that, Rick thought. He wondered if it would inspire him to leave a few of his own, and he shivered again, feeling a fresh bolt of arousal travel down his spine and spread through his hips.

Negan’s smile widened, as if he had heard his thoughts, and he brought his hand up to his lips slowly and blew him a kiss. It made him _leak_ , the fucking _bastard_. He could wind him up without touching him, without letting anyone touch him, and he _knew_ it. That was why he was blowing him cheeky little kisses while his lieutenant fucked him like a cheap date, and Rick wasn’t sure whether he wanted to strangle him or leap across the room and ride him until Negan screamed his name.

“Shit on a cracker,” Simon panted behind him. “You are so _fucking_ tight. Don’t judge me, cool hand Luke, I’m not gonna fucking last with you squeezing me like a - ah-ah-ah, _fuck_!” Simon came with a low, pained groan, spilling deep and wet inside of him. Rick closed his eyes and shivered at the warm rush.

“Rick.”

His eyes flew open, still maddeningly obedient.

Negan reached out a hand and crooked a finger at him. “Come here,” he said, his tone imperious.

Rick slid shakily off Simon’s lap, shuddering as his softening cock slipped from him and a trail of sticky come followed. He swayed a little as he rose to his feet, and Negan gave a soft tsk.

He pointed to the floor at Rick’s feet, eyes smoldering at him. Rick sank to his knees as if hypnotized, crawling the few feet between them, unable to tear his eyes away from the hazel ones glimmering at him with the wild beauty of a hungry animal’s. He braced his hands on his thighs as he reached him, feeling himself grow uncertain again as he drew close. He didn’t know the rules of this game, and he couldn’t exactly read the expression in those piercing eyes.

Negan reached out and ran his fingers lightly through his hair, his touch barely there, and Rick’s eyelashes fluttered in anticipation. “You know what to do,” Negan growled softly.

That brought Rick up short. “I…I don’t,” he confessed, brow furrowing.

Negan’s eyes softened at him as he chuckled, seizing Rick’s wrists gently and bringing his hands to his belt. “Sure you do.”

Oh.

Rick undid the belt and drew the flushed, straining length from his pants. He lifted his eyes to Negan, feeling a bit more in control now that he was back in more familiar territory. “You never said you liked to watch, Negan,” he drawled softly, almost purring. He watched in triumph as Negan’s teeth sank into his lip and his eyes darkened with lust.

“I like a _lot_ of things, darlin’. We’ve only just gotten started, you an’ me. Believe that.” He ran his fingers through his hair again, but this time he seized a handful of honey-brown strands and tugged him firmly towards his cock. “Open up.”

Rick lapped at the tip, tasting the wetness there before taking him into his mouth. Negan gripped his hair tighter and rolled his hips slowly, sliding over his tongue and into his throat. Rick fought the gag that provoked, feeling his eyes begin to burn. He still didn’t feel that he had _quite_ gotten the hang of this, as many times as Negan teased and coaxed him through it, and his fingers tightened on the other man’s thighs. Negan’s hand left his hair, allowing him to ease back a little, sucking in deep, full breaths. He lifted his eyes questioningly, and Negan settled his arms on the plush red arms of the chair. _Go on_ , his eyes said, so Rick went on. He focused on taking him carefully deeper and working his tongue over him.

Negan made a rumbling, appreciative noise above him, and Rick felt powerful despite being on his knees. He had quickly learned that Negan _loved_ being in his mouth, and as uncertain of his own performance as he was at times, he was aware of having the other man at his mercy in these moments. The sounds that he could draw out of him were fascinating: alternately sinful and sweet, and more than once, Rick had been rewarded with breathy whimpers that hardly sounded like they came from the swaggering tyrant.

That’s the sound he was longing to hear now, so when Negan pulled his cock from his mouth, he made a little noise of protest that promptly embarrassed him.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll let you have it again soon,” Negan said, eyes dancing with dark amusement. “Just give Uncle Simon a minute to catch up. You’re not done showing him a good time.”

Rick glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide. Simon was grinning at him from his perch on the couch, cock swelling again, and when their eyes met he waggled his eyebrows in cartoonish lasciviousness. He looked back up at Negan in confusion, feeling his heart start to flutter uncertainly in his chest.

“You’re gonna bend over, and he’s gonna fuck you again while I slide my dick down your throat,” Negan said casually, tracing a thumb over Rick’s cheekbone. “Ricky’s first spit-roasting. Think you can take it?”

Rick’s eyes flashed at him immediately at the challenge. “I can take it,” he said firmly, and Negan beamed a gratified smile down on him.

“Good boy,” he whispered, pleased, and he slid off the chair to kneel in front of Rick and draw his mouth to his.

Rick gripped his jacket, feeling himself get a little loose at the seams at the way Negan’s tongue probed his mouth hungrily, as if searching for his own taste. Negan ran his hands up and down his sides before pausing to squeeze at the darkening bruises on his hips. _I fucking knew it_ , Rick thought wryly as he flinched a little.

Negan broke their kiss briefly to address Simon. “Go get a blanket to throw down. Fucking rug burn’s no fun for any of us.”

Rick slid his hands beneath his jacket and pushed it from his shoulders, and Negan cocked an eyebrow at him as his hands slid under his white teeshirt next.

“Getting grabby, sweetheart?” he murmured.

Rick flushed a little at the mocking tone. “You’re one to talk, _sweetheart_ ,” he shot back, raking his nails lightly over Negan’s nipples.

Negan chuckled and pulled Rick back in with a hand to the back of his neck. Rick lost himself in it again; he couldn’t help it. He had always been susceptible to a good kiss.

A loud, exaggerated throat-clearing broke them up again, and Rick turned his head to see Simon standing over a blanket spread out on the floor like they were about to have a picnic, his cock jutting out of his pants.

“Me and big Simon are getting kind of lonely,” he complained.

Rick naively took the bait. “Big Simon?” he asked. “Don’t you mean little Simon?”

“Well, shit, sheriff. You just had it up your ass - you tell me.”

Rick glared sat back on his heels and glared, and Negan snickered as he gave him a shove towards the blanket. Rick felt some of his earlier uneasiness return to him as he crawled hesitantly into position.

“Still on board, Ricky? Fucking say something if you’re not.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, the coddling tone putting his back up.

“He sure is,” Simon muttered behind him, his thighs pressing up against Rick’s.

Rick sucked in a breath and almost shifted away on instinct, catching himself at the last moment. Simon’s thick cock was sliding over his entrance, and he shivered as Negan’s gripped him by the hair once again. Simon didn’t bother going slow this time, and Rick couldn’t help the moan he gave as the other man drove to the hilt in him without ceremony.

“Look at you. You look so fucking beautiful when you’re split open,” Negan murmured above him, and Rick tried to given an annoyed scoff that came out closer to a whimper. “Of course, you look a hell of a lot better on my cock than Simon’s.”

“Come on, man,” Simon protested, already moving in long, hard strokes that left Rick nearly empty before filling him back up again. “You’re gonna hurt all three of my feelings. Besides, what does Ricky Dicky care? He’s getting fucked from behind.”

“So? Out of sight, out of mind doesn’t apply to getting fucked. By that logic, it could be Dwight porkin’ him right now. How does that tickle your fancy, baby?”

“Dwight…hates…me,” Rick panted, incredulous over the inane conversation going on while Simon was pile-driving him.

“Aw, no, baby, that’s just the way his face is.” Negan tugged his head almost gently towards his dick, and Rick licked his lips in anticipation.

“Stop trying to assassinate my boner by talking about that squirrelly sonofabitch,” Simon groaned. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting your dick sucked?”

As if in answer, Rick wrapped his lips around what was being offered to him. He was too overwhelmed by everything happening to his body to do much more than suck the hot, heavy cock he took in his mouth, but Negan seemed to anticipate that. He held him steady by the hair as he rocked into his throat, his thrusts growing more shallow when Rick’s chest began to burn and he slapped urgently at one jean-clad thigh.

“Come on, honey,” he murmured above him. “Take it.”

 _I am taking it_ , Rick wanted to snap, _I’m taking it everywhere I can take it, what the hell else do you want from me?_ But he couldn’t speak at all with a mouthful of Negan’s cock, and he settled for shooting him an icy glare that made the other man chuckle.

“Slap his ass,” Negan ordered, and Simon obeyed with gusto.

Rick gave a muffled cry, his dick twitching with interest between his legs. He should have been humiliated, but he was so goddamn _hard_. He was hard as steel from being handled like this, and that was just the latest in a series of astonishing things that his association with this smirking, foul-mouthed maniac had taught him about himself. He couldn’t do anything about his aching dick, either. It was difficult enough to keep his balance with Simon pounding into him and Negan controlling his head. He wasn’t sure if he could spare the hand to stroke himself, but maybe if he spread his legs a little to distribute his weight, he could -

Negan gave his hair a vicious tug, and Rick choked around the dick buried deep in his throat. He turned pleading eyes up to Negan, who shook his head slowly, lips fixed in a mocking smirk. “Hands off that pretty dick, baby. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

Rick whimpered pitifully around his full mouth, too far gone to be embarrassed now.

“Come on, boss,” Simon panted behind him, hips slamming against his ass and sending his knees sliding on the soft blanket beneath him. “Don’t be such a dick.”

Negan chuckled, stroking his fingers through the hair he had just yanked. “He can take it,” he said affectionately, and Rick heard it as a challenge. _Can you take it?_

He could, goddamnit. He bobbed his head over Negan’s length, swallowing around him, gratified when the other man let out a pained-sounding moan.

“Good boy,” Negan growled above him, and the shakiness in his voice pleased Rick immensely. “T-that’s my boy. Fuck, baby, you love it, don’t you? Acting like a fucking virgin before, but you’ve got two dicks in you now, and you fucking _love_ it. I’ll bet you didn’t fucking know you had it in you.” Negan pulled his cock from Rick’s warm mouth again, bending down while pulling Rick up by the hair so that he was inches from his flushed, damp face. “But I did,” he breathed, eyes dancing with a gleeful lust. He closed the short distance between their lips, and Rick met his rough, probing tongue eagerly. Negan pulled back after a moment. “Want to come, Rick?” He still had him by the hair, and he was stroking his dick where it hovered inches from Rick’s face.

“Yes,” he panted. “Please.”

“Then beg for it, baby.”

“Please, Negan, please…” he swallowed hard, feeling his eyes get wet from the strain of being so close for so long. Negan was fucking killing him. “Please, let me come. Please, please!” It was nearly a wail, and he could distantly hear the wet slapping of Simon’s flesh on him, punctuating his pleading obscenely. _Oh, my god_ , he thought, squeezing his eyes shut, _what the fuck has happened to me_.

Negan gave his hair another sharp tug, and Rick’s eyes flew open, wide and desperate. The dark eyes burning down at him were merciless, and Rick felt a fresh wave of desperate tears sting his eyes. “Little more, baby,” he nearly cooed as he stroked himself slowly. “Come on.”

The sight of his cock, red and stiff and ready to spill over his face, did it. “Daddy, _please_ ,” he cried in a flash of inspiration, and Negan grinned down at him in triumph.

“Simon,” he barked, and a rough hand enveloped him.

Rick gave a sobbing moan as his long overdue release shook him. Through the haze, he felt warmth splash his face and drip between his slack lips, and the moment Negan’s hand left his hair he collapsed forward, face falling into his arms. Simon was still at it, and he moaned faintly into the blanket beneath him as each thrust jolted his oversensitive body until the other man finally came with a grunt. He tipped over and rolled to his side in utter exhaustion when Simon pulled out of him, sprawling on the soft blanket beneath him.

“Yippee-ki-ay, motherfucker,” Simon sighed. “That was one hell of a rodeo.”

Rick was still adrift in exhausted bliss, but he managed a faint “shut up, Simon.”

“Whatever you want. Hell, you can get up and punch me in the balls if you want, sheriff, because that’s how goddamn good of a lay you are. No wonder the boss is always mooning about you -“

“Shut up, Simon,” Negan grumbled from somewhere above, and Rick shivered as something soft wiped his face before moving between his thighs.

“Okay,” the other man replied agreeably.

The sweat was beginning to dry on Rick’s skin. He shivered again before reaching out an arm and groping until he found the edge of the blanket and tugged it over himself.

“You gonna sleep all curled up on the rug like a kitty cat, Rick?” Negan mocked lightly.

Rick forced his eyes open. The other man was looking like a contented cat himself with his half-lidded eyes and the lazy grace with which he sprawled beside him on the floor. “That my shirt you just used to - _Christ_ , Negan-”

“Don’t get ‘em in a twist, baby. Not when we’re all getting along so fucking _nice_. Come on.” Negan rose and slipped back into his chair, bending down to stretch a hand out to Rick.

Rick hesitated a moment before taking the proffered hand and letting himself be pulled up into the other man’s lap, wincing a little as he settled against him.

“Sore?” Negan did nothing to disguise the amusement in his tone, although his fingers in Rick’s hair were gentle.

“You know I am, asshole,” Rick mumbled into his shoulder as his eyes slowly drifted shut.

“Sorry, buddy boy,” Simon said breezily, and Rick could have turned around and slapped him for startling him back awake when he was trying to drift off on the post-orgasm haze. He felt like he had more than earned the right to a doze, but the other man went on, his voice strident, “but thanks for the ride. Let’s do it again real soon.”

“Get lost, Simon,” Negan rumbled. “It’s my night with my favorite husband, and you and your dick have taken up enough of it.” He smoothed a hand down Rick’s back, pausing to knead the muscles beneath his fingers, and it felt so relaxing and _good_ that Rick bit back the retort that had risen to his lips - _I’m your only husband, asshole._

Besides, he was taken aback to hear Negan put it that way. _His_ night with Rick? Is that how he saw it, instead of _Rick’s_ night with him?

Simon finally did leave, whistling a jaunty tune on his way out.

“Not your first tag team, huh?” Rick drawled.

“Shit. You wanna hear my war stories, Rick?”

“ _Hell,_ no.”

“Bitch,” Negan said affectionately. He kissed into the damp chestnut hair as he curled a hand around the back of Rick’s neck, tilting his head and exposing the sharp, sleek curve of his cheekbone for a line of soft, feather-light kisses.

Rick didn’t know what the hell came over him, whether it was a result of the strange triumph he was feeling in the wake of this - _see? I told you I could take it_ \- or whether it was the rare sweetness Negan was pouring over him now that was softening him up like candy held on his tongue, but he put his lips at Negan’s ear and said in a barely audible whisper, “I’d rather work on our own war stories, Negan.” The shudder that went through Negan’s entire body pleased Rick very, _very_ much.

“You’re full of surprises, sheriff,” he laughed, pressing another surprisingly gentle kiss to his temple.

“Yeah, well,” Rick returned archly, “we’ve only just gotten started, you an’ me.”


End file.
